They always played this game and every time they did it would annoy the hell out of him. Izaya would come prancing around like he owned the whole town, spouting nonsense, and most importantly pissing him off, while he would try to get rid of him. He didn't know how he managed to just appear and disappear so quickly and effectively and that made everything that much worse.
Every set up that the bastard thought of always messed up his rhythm. He had only wanted to be a big brother that Kazuka would be proud of but just that one individual made everything turn upside down. He could make him snap with just a thought, a glimpse, the sound of his name, the sound of his voice.
Anything and everything about him.
"Damn him," he muttered. The little bastard had escaped his grasp once more. If only those creeps would have kept to their own business then he would have surely caught him.
Blood poured out of his head but he didn't even feel pain, only anger. The cigarette in his mouth was unlit but even just the taste of tobacco in his mouth was enough to begin calming him down.
Nobody approached him and he preferred it that way. People only pissed him off more than usual. Their talk about the most insignificant things wasn't something he wanted to know about, their problems always had flaws, and it all just made him snap. He could see his apartment in the distance and he couldn't help but feel some of his fading anger return. It would be like every other night.
He entered his apartment and he wasn't surprised to see all of the lights off.
He entered his bathroom, blood still seeping from his skull, but a quick shower would surely clean him up. The water was hot and steam quickly rose, fogging up the window and creating condensation. Perhaps a normal person would have gone to the hospital from an injury like his, hell they might have even died! But he had been "trained" to withstand just about anything physical ever since Izaya popped into his life. He turned off the water and faintly the sound of voices was heard.
He quickly dried up and wrapped a towel around his waist. His blonde hair was plastered to his face and all traces of any blood were gone, a good scrub had done wonders on his bloodied head. He entered his living room and watched as little figures danced and made shadows in the dark room.
No sound but the television could be heard.
"Ah, Shizu-chan, is that a hickey?"
Arms wrapped around his bare frame and a zipper scraped his sides, "Tch, don't act dumb, you know what that is."
He didn't even move as a moist tongue went over the bruise on his shoulder. It had been a few days since he had acquired this little "gift" and he wasn't surprised to know it was still there. He didn't feel it, not even as pressure was applied to it. Arms roamed his abdomen, slightly grazing at the top of his towel.
"Now, now, Shizu-chan, you'll only get gray hairs if you keep up your temper," Izaya whispered and tugged at his ear. He winced and tore himself away.
"Bastard," he yelled out, feeling some blood drip from his ear but his tormentor only smirked back at him. The television was still on but it only faintly passed through his mind.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I think you need to be punished," was all Izaya said. He felt his anger come back and before he knew it his living room love seat was hovering in the air and flying towards his current target - Izaya Orihara.
Unfortunately for him Izaya was a quick little bastard and managed to move away, causing a hole to appear in the wall, debris to fly about and some smoke to rise. The bedroom next door was clearly visible and so was Izaya. Using the same couch Shizuo tried to aim at Izaya once more, determined to make even the faintest of marks on his pale body but Izaya dodged his attack and struck him, causing him to land face first into his bed. His couch lay broken and forget on the other side of the room.
"Damn it!"
He turned around but before he could even move Izaya was on him, knife in his hand and pointed at his throat, a smirk on his face, "You're it."
And those two words changed it all. Everyday he had done everything he could to capture this little bastard and everyday Izaya managed to capture him instead. He always lost but every night the circumstances would change. Izaya would capture him, he would need to capture, and he would.
Soft lips crashed onto his own, a demanding tongue forcefully pried his mouth open with the help of a few nips. He groaned as small hips ground into his own and slender fingers pulled his hair. Izaya may have been only a year younger than him but his body structure was much slimmer, more delicate looking, than his own physically larger one. His towel was no longer needed and just like every night he ended up pounding into the bastard that constantly tortured him.
Every night he became the hunter but even when he had Izaya under him moaning and groaning he couldn't help but feel like he was still the prey. He felt as if their positions hadn't changed - Izaya was the hunter.
Shizuo grabbed his cell phone and dialed an all too familiar number and almost immediately someone answered, "Hello?"
He watched as the smoke coming from his cigarette disappeared, "I need to get my apartment fixed up again."
There was a groan on the other line and some muttering was heard, "You should be more careful you know, and quiet. You do have neighbors you know."
"Tch, you know the closest neighbors I have are on the first floor," he heard some laughter coming from the other line and he couldn't help but scowl as Shinra told Celty about his reoccurring problem.